


more than words

by afrocurl



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Chess, M/M, Unresolved Emotional Tension, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2006520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles had a life with Erik - or the beginnings of one - and as soon as the situation in Cuba seemed on the right path, everything tilted off axis.</p><p>What was Charles to do now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	more than words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TurtleTotem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurtleTotem/gifts).



> This whole idea came from Turtle's tags in [this](http://ikeracity.tumblr.com/post/90917842709/kath-ballantyne-i-close-my-eyes-and-try-to-see\)) post, and well, it's sad, as the tags make it out to be. Sorry fandom?

Pain lanced through him - phantom ones, he knew, but powerful all the same - as the shocks of Shaw’s death ripple through him, like the waves of kinetic energy Shaw absorbed until now.

It was no worse than the pain Charles felt when Erik’s mind had been violated by Emma Frost off the coast of Florida, but it was pain nonetheless.

Lasting longer than he thought possible, a new sort of pain bore itself into Charles. The mind of Shaw’s teleporter had awoken and soon there was the smell of sulphur and the teleporter’s red tail spiked into Erik’s chest.

Charles felt Erik die, even if his friend still wore Shaw’s damnable helmet; it mattered little that Charles wasn’t connected to Erik’s mind, he was connected to Erik’s will and Erik’s spirit regardless. Iron leached from Erik’s body, blood pooling into the sand - as if the blood and iron within had never know that his body could control it - and Charles screamed.

Screamed and screamed until he had no more voice.

Then he wept.

Nothing else mattered.

-

Through miracles that Charles didn’t want to believe or imagine, nothing else happened on that beach. Moira was able to call off the US ships, which prompted the Soviets to stand down and everything was the same.

Only it wasn’t.

Erik hadn’t returned home as a sly smile and a quick retort. 

Erik returned home in a box. They managed to get his body back, untouched, and buried within three days - all within the traditions of Erik’s lapsed faith, though Charles decided against finding a Jewish cemetery for Erik’s body. 

Charles couldn’t put Erik so far away from himself.

Under the satellite dish that brought the two of them so close - and yet so far away from each other - Erik’s body was laid to rest. Closer to the grounds, Charles commissioned a statue - one of Erik’s hands cocked against one hip and sleek looking in one of Erik’s turtlenecks and dress pants.

It looked as if Erik had encased himself in metal rather than died, but each time Charles stared at it, tears fell from his eyes and he cried in earnest as soon as he was alone.

No one around the house said anything as Charles grieved, for they all knew how close the two of them had been.

But they were only half right. Charles loved Erik and had since that first meeting in Florida. He had never vocalized it - never even thought it towards Erik - but he felt it all the same. Their last chess game remained as it was - unfinished - and Charles found it fitting. Charles’ study became a second space to mourn Erik. Left alone for posterity. One more reminder of Erik’s presence in his life.

The study wasn’t the only reminder of Erik that Charles erected. Despite all of Erik’s reservations about what to do with their recruits, Charles started a school to protect and support young mutants. Alex, Hank, Sean were the first students of the Lehnsherr School for Gifted Youngsters, but Charles was sure they wouldn’t be the last.

Hank worked tirelessly to recreate Cerebro and soon Charles went out on his own to bring the most at-risk young mutants into the school.

-

The school developed a reputation quickly for being a place for mutants to train and test their powers. Erik’s determination had seeped into Charles’ marrow after so many debates and that trickled down into everyone else. Everyone knew of Erik Lehnsherr and what he meant to their school and their position. 

Charles wouldn’t hide his students from the world, but he would train them to be smart in how they used their powers - should needs must.

Strategy and some espionage were incorporated into the classes on proper uses of everyone’s ability - the one known and visible tribute to Erik’s legacy. Charles’ ideals had mixed with Erik’s most determined ideas - protection and reconnaissance when necessary. Raven led that charge as often as she could; working hard to influence politicians when she could, all through Washington using her blonde visage - and occasionally a few others. 

Charles disliked that she was so far away, but realized that she needed space to grow - much as Erik had in his years hunting Nazis - and so she ran small foundations on the School’s behalf.

Even without her by his side, Charles knew he would never be the same. Years had passed, and still Erik was a large part of Charles’ life. Erik’s room was left as it was - the school’s internal monument to the man whose name they honored every day. Charles visited the room every day, without fail. 

Gone was the subtle hint of Erik’s cologne and aftershave, in its stead was the ghostly reminder of Erik’s hard edges. His few books sat on the bedside table and his small collection of paper clips, safety pins and ball bearings stayed unmoving in the metal ashtray. He had a single martini in Erik’s room every night; one simple reminder of who Erik was.

His other reminders were much more private, alone in his room with his thoughts. There, he sat and drank some of the fine scotch that he had preferred to Erik’s martinis, and here he imagined that he could still play chess against one of the best mind’s Charles had met.

“Old friend, really now?” he’d ask the air as he imagined Erik moving in some brash and bold gambit.

There was never a response, but Charles didn’t care. Here he was alone to grieve - or not - and here was where he felt Erik most keenly. Never had Erik been in this room, but after his drink and his thoughts, Charles wished that Erik had.

He wished that Erik had known the depths of his love; the wide expanse of his feelings. Because now that Erik had left him, Charles realized, more than ever, that he had always loved Erik.

Loved the restless attitude that nearly killed them with the Soviets; loved how fiercely he felt for everyone - even after years of being no more than a number to scores of people; loved how easily Erik’s hardened exterior fell away the minute he was alone with Charles and no one would see. Now that time had made Erik into a hazy memory, Charles assured himself that Erik felt the same. That Erik would have returned a kiss had Charles offered.

It was those flights of fancy that ended Charles’ nights. Thinking of all that could have been, and all that he wanted to have had.

Lazily he’d stroke himself, imagining Erik’s eyes lit up in surprise at Charles’ uncut prick, imagining Erik’s tentative first pull.

Imagining all the possibilities. Imagining Erik as he would be, never as he was.

-

In the cool light of early mornings Erik’s visage still rested against Charles’ mind. He tried to chase the small and crisp laugh Erik would make.

With that, he was ready to face his day. Face another day without the man who altered his life at his side.

Charles would face every day like this - just to see Erik one last time. Just to know that his friend had done good work and made the world a better place for all their kind.

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by Di and Casey, but any and all mistakes are my own at this point.
> 
> Also written as my anniversary story for my entrance into X-Men: First Class fandom.


End file.
